Angelo Estioko Poems

To thee, solitude is mind's aimed peace,
Not a hermit, just having a rest.
In thee, flourishes gregariousness,
Not an extrovert, but an introvert.
...

Just a few of them;

Parts of wisdom reaped seldom,
...

Confided my pain
To the noose of despair,
lost...
Have gone dilettante.
...

Badly wants to sprawl,
Cuz of parched, sweltering air,
Worse than yesterday's.
Can't fan for long for fast gusts,
...

Whispers of the dove swayed
And their graceful steps ignited him.
Aural elation lullabied her.
She nodded and granted it a vessel.
...

I saw a seedling apparition, hardly seen,
That's dangling under scintillating sun.
The shadow then suffus'd beneath it,
Defying even scorching hate from light,
...

Shares,
Greetings,
Lists,
Ambushed my sight.
...